


The Proof is in the Dough

by YukaSnow (ArellaAkana)



Series: Under Lock and Key [3]
Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23181304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArellaAkana/pseuds/YukaSnow
Summary: Some things, Mikleo rationalizes, are worth agonizing over.Edna, understandably, is one of them.
Series: Under Lock and Key [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1029725
Kudos: 5





	The Proof is in the Dough

**Author's Note:**

> after five hundred years I’m back on my adopted au mess with some good ol' Mik and Edna bonding

Some things, Mikleo rationalizes, are worth agonizing over.

He just can’t decide if he should stoop so low as to consider... _this,_ worrying enough to warrant his feelings.

On one hand, he likes the job. His boss is friendly and incredibly generous. Any leftovers in the display cases at the end of the day are free pickings, and because he also doubles as the guy who makes the ice cream (and by association, the ice cream cakes), he gets a very nice discount on specialties like the full-sized birthday cakes. Plus, the bakery is right by his school, so he can easily head over after classes. It’s a bonus since Lailah has been flexible with his schedule.

The employees he’s met are equally welcoming. There’s Mason, a baker with a goofy smile as he makes another batch of doughnuts explode _yet again._ (How he still has a job, Mikleo will never know.) Rose, the eternally busy catering coordinator whose incredible charisma convinces even the most penny-pinching customers to walk out with a dozen curry buns instead of one. (He has a feeling she’s more business savvy than she looks, considering he’s seen her consistently working the counter by herself and seems to have no problem juggling hordes of customers and catering orders.) And there’s also Sorey, Lailah’s son. Although Mikleo has never met him officially, he’s heard plenty from coworkers and customers alike that he might as well count it. From what Mikleo caught on the rumor mill, Sorey is supposed to be the sweetest thing in the bakery. 

(They say he has a smile that rivals the sun.)

In any case, they’re all great pluses so far. It’s just...other things that Mikleo feels like he has to worry about.

“You’re late, Meebo.”

Like her.

“Last time I checked, I’m early,” he fires back as he ducks under the counter. He should know, he checked his phone at least five times on the way over. There was no way he was late.

But in the small chance that _maybe_ Edna is right, he rushes to the back, hanging up his backpack and trading his school uniform for the bakery’s shirt and apron. He picks up his name tag from the little basket that holds the others’ and clips it to his apron.

Edna looks unimpressed when he returns. With her clean and tidy appearance, she’s the perfect image of the ideal employee. Tiny and objectively adorable when she interacted with customers, he has to admit. The only thing that throws the ideal off is her dull expression (and he swears she reserves it just for him, he _swears_ it), but then again, it feels like she always looks like that around him. It’s a shame too. The cheerful reds and whites of the uniform are lost on someone as sour as her.

Really, it’s just her. Otherwise, this job would be perfect.

“Early’s on time, on time is late,” she says like it’s the most obvious fact.

But Mikleo is not deterred. To punch in his point, he clocks in on the bakery’s register-tablet.

 _Mikleo Rulay. Starting shift at 3:30 PM,_ the screen reads. Right on the dot. “Not even a minute past,” he doesn’t hesitate to point out. He folds his arms and puffs his chest out in pride. If there’s one thing he can boast about himself, it’s his impeccable punctuality. “Now, if we were going by your standards, sure. But Lailah, our _manager,_ hasn’t reprimanded me so far, which means I’m in the clear.”

So he’s rubbing salt in the wound. Just a little.

He’s earned this much.

“Oh, didn’t you get her text? She’s out, and that means…”

“Oh god.”

“...I’m in charge today.” Edna taps on her name tag for good measure. The words, “Assistant Manager Edna,” shine under the lights. “So, since we’re going by the _manager’s_ standards, I’m saying you’re late.”

_The worst. Possible. Outcome._

Mikleo can only hope for a miracle.

—

It’s nepotism. That’s the only way Edna could have an assistant manager position with her attitude and sharp tongue. He doesn’t know how, but she and Lailah are connected somehow.

“It’s not nepotism,” Edna says, gently bonking his head with her hand. It doesn’t hurt, but for good measure, she rubs his hair so that it flies all over the place. He swats her hand away and brushes his hair back into place, noting her smug expression. “I’m just that good at my job.”

Mikleo’s also theorizing that she can read minds. It’s too eerie how she knows what he’s about to say, but that theory’s on the back burner for now.

“Still, aren’t you a little young to be assistant manager?” he asks. “You can’t be that much older than me. Don’t you need a business degree?”

Edna’s surprisingly quiet on the matter, and for a moment, Mikleo wonders if she’s offended. Considering her small stature and young appearance, it had to be difficult to commandeer respect from the staff or reign in unsightly customers. 

Although, when he thinks about it, he doubts she would have a difficult time with either. From what he’s seen, Lailah’s given Edna her full trust and support, and the others respond without any complaints. The customers are taken in with her (debatably) adorable looks and “personality” (he’s not letting that go). Edna could probably be a full manager if she really wanted.

“If I was aiming to be a manager, yeah,” she finally answers. “But I don’t need one. I’ve been here forever.”

Well, she doesn’t look offended at least. More proud of herself than anything.

“So...like a couple years?”

“Since high school. And before you ask, I graduated a year early.”

_Huh. Never would’ve guessed._

“Wait, so you’re, what, seventeen?” he asks, eyes wide. “But that means you’re only a year older than me!”

“And blessed with all of the wisdom that a sixteen-year-old could ever dream of,” she says wistfully, looking into the distance. Or at the couple walking into the bakery. They’re both quick to collect themselves, greeting the customers and putting the conversation away for now.

There must be something going on with Edna today. Mikleo isn’t sure what, but she lets him recommend a few things to the customers with nary a complaint in earshot. Even better, she doesn’t make a sly remark about his “newbie” status to them like she normally does. Not even when the customers look at him and giggle, a good chance for her to slip in whatever joke pops into her mind.

Maybe it’s because of their talk earlier, but he’s willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“No stuttering this time. Must be your lucky day,” is all she has to say. 

So really, Edna isn’t _that_ terrible. She’s quick with her witty tongue and never passes up a moment to make fun of him, but she’s not insufferable. Mikleo thinks if they met in another lifetime, they could even get along.

Having that been said, she’s still Edna. The moment the customers leave, she whips out her phone to tap away at it. Her face returns to its default expression as she speaks.

“No daydreaming on the job. See if the guys’ restroom needs tidying up.”

“All right,” Mikleo says. _So it’s back to “assistant manager mode”, I see._

A glance at the clock tells him he only has an hour left until freedom. One hour and it was home free. Ideally, Edna would leave him alone to do his job for the rest of the hour, but at this point, he knows his routine with her well enough.

Restrooms. Check.

Wipe down the tables and sweep up the crumbs off the floor. Done.

Be slightly baffled as to how Edna earned her position without nepotism. He easily comes up with two more theories, both of them having to do with a possible link to the mafia.

After Mikleo empties the crumbs into the trash, he looks over at her again. Still on her phone. Still not paying attention. Of course.

“No slacking.”

So she’s paying a _teensy_ bit of attention.

“It’s tidying up, it counts as work,” he says. To prove his point, he sweeps up a few napkins and some crumbs tucked away under the tables.

“Yeah, but the tops of the ovens need to be wiped down.”

“Ah, let me guess. The great Edna is far too busy with important business on her phone to tend to, right?”

“Obviously,” she insists in that, “Duh,” tone of her’s. “That, and I can’t reach it. Unless the lowly Meebo thinks I can suddenly sprout wings.”

 _Meebo._ The most cursed of names (if he was feeling dramatic). It wouldn’t be half as bad if it was _just_ a nickname thing, or even an inside joke thing. But with Edna, there’s no doubt it’s to poke fun at him. He can’t imagine anything else.

And he _still_ doesn’t know what possessed her to give him that accursed nickname. He’s not sure if he wants to know, considering she might give a completely inane answer like, “A Meebo’s a Meebo.”

“I’m not ‘Meebo,’” he insists for the nth time. “Don’t we have step ladders for that, anyway?”

“Typical feeble-minded Meebo. There’s only the three-step one since Mason broke the actual ladder.”

“This is on purpose now, isn’t it.”

“No, he said it just ‘collapsed’ when he brought it back inside.”

“Huh.”

 _Finally,_ Edna puts her phone away. For what, he’s not sure. His complaints are never enough to convince her of anything and there’s no way it’s affecting her _now,_ but it’s an improvement over her just sitting there and giving commands.

Bells chime in greeting as the front doors swing open. On instinct, they both look towards the source.

“Hey, Edna! It’s just you and Mikster today?”

Edna scrunches her face in irritation. “Gross, a Zaveid. Lailah’s not here today, y’know, so you can leave.”

Zaveid laughs as he ruffles Mikleo’s hair, and Mikleo waves his hands away. For once, his mailman uniform is actually buttoned up, hiding his usual exposed tank top. His messenger bag slings across his body instead of off the shoulder. Even his long hair is tied back and tucked out of the way with a matching black cap. Mikleo briefly considers the idea that Zaveid made plans with Lailah, but he’s just as quick to discard it. Zaveid can be surprisingly picky when it comes to how proper he feels like making himself in his uniform.

“Can’t a guy come in and say hi and visit some of his favorite people?” Zaveid says.

“No. Buy a bagel or leave.”

“A bagel for yours and Mikleo’s time? Ouch. You drive a hard bargain, gouging my wallet out.”

“Yeah, you look real troubled for money,” Edna scoffs. Zaveid gasps, a hand on his chest as he collapses to the ground. The epitome of distress (not).

“I’m hurt! Mik, my man, vouch for me, will ya?” Zaveid turns to him, a pleading look in his eyes. Well, as close to pleading as he can get. It’s hardly convincing when Mikleo knows that he brushes off Edna’s remarks like repellent. “You miss your ol’ pal, Zaveid, don’cha? We’ve been through so much -”

“We have?” Mikleo asks with an amused tone.

“ - what with my mentoring and finding babes, sharing secrets and dreams underneath the fluorescent lights…” 

Edna scrunches her nose. “Doubt.”

As harsh as it is, Mikleo waves off Zaveid trying to muss with his hair. “I’m pretty sure you were daydreaming all that, Zaveid. Especially finding babes.”

A devastating blow. Zaveid is crushed.

“I’m hurt. Deceased. And after I came all this way to finally see you embrace your ‘Meebo’ status.” Zaveid fake-sniffles, brushing a “tear” from his eye. “I can’t believe they grow up so fast.”

“My what?”

“Y’know…”

“I should hope not.”

Zaveid doesn’t respond. Curiously, he looks over at Edna. She still looks bored, but there’s a twinkle in her eyes that makes Mikleo feel suspicious.

Everybody’s silent. Too silent. Zaveid and Edna look too amused for their own good, and Mikleo isn’t sure if he should take the bait or not.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to.

“You wanna tell him, or me?” Zaveid finally speaks up.

Edna shrugs noncommittally, as good an answer as any. Zaveid seems to accept it though because he pats Mikleo’s shoulder like he’s about to give a lecture.

“My young protégée, Mikleo…” he begins. Mikleo groans. “My man, you’ve been played.”

A smirk starts making its way onto Edna’s face.

“Huh?” is all Mikleo can say.

Silently, Zaveid pats his own chest. Mikleo looks down, inspecting his outfit. He’s wearing the same shirt and apron, no apparent stains or modifications as far as he can tell. It’s a proper uniform.

Wait.

_Modification?_

Mikleo pulls out his name tag and takes a closer look. Over where his name should be, someone printed a “Meebo” label and taped it over.

“Oh my God.”

Zaveid bursts out in a guffaw the second Mikleo has his realization. He hurls the name tag at Edna, who catches it perfectly with one hand and gives a peace sign in retaliation. Zaveid just pats Mikleo’s shoulders good-naturedly.

Really, these two were the worst together.

“There’s an actual reason for you here, right?” Mikleo sighs, exasperated. “Work related, perhaps?”

Zaveid nods, still a little giggly as he pulls out a smallish, flat box and a tablet from his messenger bag. “Just the one, and then I’m done for the night. I was hoping to pick up a few things for dinner though.”

“Too tired to cook tonight, I’m guessing?” Mikleo asks as he takes the tablet to sign. Zaveid shakes his head.

“Nah, just in the mood for something simple. Don’t wanna upset my stomach for the weekend, y’know?”

“Pretty sure mapo curry buns don’t count as ‘simple’ for dinner,” Edna says.

“Nah, but I’m not one to turn down a good curry bun. That Rose girl is a genius when it comes to curry.”

Edna only has a small, “Pfft,” in response. There’s a sound of rustling parchment paper and tongs clicking together while Mikleo trades the tablet for the package (“Thank you,” Zaveid says as he puts the tablet away). When he turns around to head back behind the counter, he sees Edna already putting some things together. Aforementioned curry buns included.

A small smile spreads across his face. He tucks the package away in a cabinet and stands in front of the cash register-tablet, making sure to ring up each item Edna puts in.

“There’s a couple of regular croissants, banana nut muffins, and then some curry buns…” she mutters, more to herself than to Zaveid. His face lights up when he walks to the counter and sees the assortment of pastries lined up neatly in a box. “Anything else or you good?”

Zaveid hums a contemplative note, eyes scanning the small selection of leftovers. Mikleo holds his hands over the screen, ready for anything else the older man wants. Zaveid looks tempted for a few things that catch his eye, but he shakes his head. “That’s it for today.”

Mikleo catches the quick nod Edna throws his way. He starts tapping on the screen to close out the transaction. Before Zaveid can even ask about the cost, Edna says, “It’s on us. Don’t worry about it.”

Zaveid raises a brow. “You sure? Lailah’s not here to waive it off. I don’t mind paying for it - I’m not hurtin’ for cash.”

“Oh please. You’re here so often, it’d be weirder _not_ to give you a discount.” There’s a look in Edna’s eyes that Mikleo can’t quite make out, but she doesn’t elaborate further. She simply holds the box of goodies up to Zaveid. “Just be mindful about when you come in next time.”

Zaveid pauses, and Mikleo wonders if Edna actually insulted him in her own way. But Zaveid laughs, a hearty one that easily dissipates any worries, and accepts the box.

“Will do. Thanks, Edna. You too, Meebo. Don’t think I forgot about you!”

Mikleo lets out an indignant sputter as Zaveid laughs again. A smirk tugs at the edges of Edna’s mouth.

“Good night, guys! Take it easy, yeah?”

“Something like that, I suppose.”

“Ugh...good night, Zaveid. Have a good one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! It’s been a hot second since I wrote anything, but the urge to write more just suddenly came at me.
> 
> this, of course, was the result. I like to think I did everybody justice, even though it’s been a while since I consumed zesty material. I can’t guarantee anything, but this au does still hold a special place in my heart, so we’ll see how it goes


End file.
